


Baby it's Cold Outside

by dearjayycee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cave-In, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hypothermia, M/M, Wolf Derek, Yetis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearjayycee/pseuds/dearjayycee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yetis. Because fuck everything all of your childhood story monsters are real and Stiles always gets paired with Derek on hunts. Not that he minds all that much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby it's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Short little drabble. Because why not?

It was so cold, so God damn fucking cold. He felt like he was a popsicle. Stiles was extremely worried since as he looked down at his fingers. They were starting to turn blue, he could only guess his toes were in the same state. He didn’t know how long he would last like this. His back was up against a cold cave wall, legs pulled under his hoodie, now stretched out, his arms were in too and so was his face. He had scrunched himself up into the small space, compacting himself to try and get more warmth.

 

They had been hunting a yeti, because fucking yetis were real holy fuck balls, in the mountains where a lot of people had been going missing. The only reason that they were dealing with this was because Lydia kept having dreams about the people who were going missing.

 

But they had been in the mountains, and he had of course been paired off with Derek again. And of course Derek had to take the most dangerous of the places the yeti could have been. And of course they were the ones to find it.

 

Really he should have known.

 

The yeti had been sitting far back in a dark cave, sleeping, when Derek attacked it.   They fumbled while Stiles just stood there thinking holy shit that is not the cute thing I expected it to be. It looked more like something out of a Stephen King novel than the fluffy things in Christmas movies.

 

There had been blood, so much blood. Black and thick and thankfully not Derek’s. But the thing had howled right before Derek ripped its head from its body. Stiles had honestly in that moment compared it to Lydia, though he would never say that out loud for the fear of her hearing it.

 

The howl of pain had caused the cave to start to rumble, the rocks shifting above them. Derek had been halfway across the large den. They were now split. He wasn’t sure if Derek was okay, since he had been close to where all the boulders had fallen and even werewolf healing couldn’t save a crushed skull.

 

He couldn’t even hear Derek, he had screamed and yelled until his vocal cords gave out, his throat dry and sore. After the initial freak out and adrenaline rush he realized how cold he was. Shivers wracking his body.

 

Stiles pulled into himself, realizing how important it was to try and keep himself warm. He had to survive for as long as possible, hoping that someone would come and save him. He couldn’t die here.

 

He had shit he wanted to do with his life. And he abso-fucking-lutely refused to die a virgin. No way.

 

So here he was, tucked into himself in the small space between large rocks. It was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open. It felt like his stomach was eating itself, which he knew it actually was, well at least, he was shivering internally.

 

His eyes started to close, eyelids heavy. Stiles kept shaking his head and trying to keep himself awake. His hands were tucked into his armpits. But they weren’t much warmer. It was so fucking cold.

 

He could help it no longer. Eyes too heavy, body too tired. He gave up. Weak.

 

The next thing Stiles knew he was being surrounded by warmth. He was dead that was for sure. It was so soft, and warm. And perfect.

 

He sighed, heavily, nuzzling his face deeper into the fluffy surface. The thing moved, a little huff, and Stiles curiosity was pecked. It took him a while to open his eyes, peeling them open to see an expanse of black fur. Long and soft and thick.

 

Stiles carded his fingers through it, a purr coming from the thing surrounding him. He was wrapped up tight, legs still pulled in. He was so freaking warm. His fingers and toes stung but it was better than the feeling of them freezing.

 

He was surely dead.

 

Because there was a wolf snuggling him.

 

Dead or hallucinating. Probably the former.

 

But he found himself staring into bright red eyes, eyes he knew. Stiles couldn’t suppress the laugh that fell from him, though broken and rough. The wolf huffed, annoyed, and fuck Derek never changed. All he could mumble out was, “Thanks, sour wolf.” Before drifting off. A million dog jokes running through his mind.

 

Warm. He was so warm. 


End file.
